Patience
by fancy blood
Summary: Agents Olivia Miller and Grant Ward have a rocky history. How will Ward react to her being on the team? Can he put aside his feelings or will he distance himself from the team even that much more? Spans throughout season 1. Ward/OC. This is my first story on FF in a few years, and I'd love some criticism!


Staring at the photo pinned to the manila folder in my hands, I felt a smile play on my lips. The man pictured was attractive, what with his perfectly styled black hair and high cheekbones leading to sensuous lips, but his brown eyes were cold. What the picture didn't show was his reserved demeanor and his calculating gaze, but I could still imagine it. Yeah, I knew Agent Ward.

I looked up as Deputy Director Hill cleared her throat. She was watching me closely as she stood across the room. I forced my face blank of all emotion and set the folder on the metal table in front of me. I clasped my hands over my stomach and leaned back slightly, waiting for her to speak.

"Agent Miller, do you know why we called on you?" She made it a question, so I answered.

"You want my opinion on Agent Ward." She nodded slowly. "But with all due respect, ma'am, I'm not sure why."

"You were the one to perform his psych evaluation after his stint in Russia, were you not?"

"Yes ma'am, though he walked out five minutes into the evaluation, ranting about 'psychobabble bullshit'." I tried to keep the bitterness from my voice and succeeded for the most part.

"But in those five minutes, you developed a very strong assessment of him." She smirked and I inclined my head slightly. "Could you go over your findings with me?"

"You've read his file, ma'am." I said complaisantly, but my gaze was suspicious. Surely she had the level clearance, but one had to be careful.

"Yes I have, though as I don't have a Ph.D. in Psychology, some of the terminology was lost on me." I hesitated, her smirk changed into a much more condescending smile. "I have a level 9 clearance." I smiled sweetly and leaned forward.

"His OEJS type is ISTJ; he's in the 70th percentile according to the NPI with a specific score of 17. According to his OCEAN model results, he tested in the 96th and 18th percentiles of the Conscientiousness and Neuroticism dimensions respectively, but tested in the lowest percentile in both the Openness to Experience and Agreeableness dimensions." I listed his personality traits as though I was reading from a textbook.

"Meaning?" She asked quietly.

"He's surly, well organized, detail-oriented, and fairly logical. He doesn't respond well to working with others, but idolizes authority figures. He has a wicked sense of superiority and authority." I paused, debating whether or not to go on, before speaking again. "He's worked hard, but has an entitlement complex because of his success." She stared at me for a moment; a moment in which I stared back with a pleasant expression.

"Do you know why we're profiling Agent Ward?" I had my suspicions, but you just don't share suspicions with high ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. officers. I compromised by looking suitably curious. "What do you know about Agent Coulson?"

"Agent Phillip Coulson is said to have died prior to the battle of New York, though to anybody with clearance level 7 or higher, he was revived and sent to Tahiti for some R&R." I sat back in my chair again. "There have been rumors that he is assembling a team."

"Very good." She looked proud.

"Agent Ward is being considered?" I asked.

"In fact, he is."

"It is my professional opinion that given his history with working in teams, the interest in Grant Ward should be terminated." As I spoke, the door behind Deputy Director Hill opened, and a man of medium height and thinning brown hair walked in.

"Your opinion has been noted, but I am afraid to say Agent Ward has already consented to the team." Agent Coulson said, closing the door. I shot him a confused look.

"I'm sorry, but if the decision has already been made, why have I been consulted?" I asked.

"It was a test," he explained, "to see how good you were."

"Did I pass?" I asked sardonically. He smiled before answering.

"With flying colors." He sat down in the chair Hill never touched. Placing his folded hands on the table in front of him, he leaned on his elbows, positively dripping with sincerity. "How would you like to get in the field?"

"You're offering me a position?" He nodded. "What would it entail?"

"I need someone with your specialty to screen potential threats, victims, and allies." I evaluated his body language closely. After a minute of silence, I decided he was truly sincere and felt myself shrugging.

"Sure." I answered. His smile widened as he stood.

"Great. Get your stuff together, we're leaving tomorrow at oh-eight hundred." He held out his hand for me to shake. I stood slowly and grasped it.

"Yes sir." I said as he pumped my arm. We let go and he turned on his heel. "Oh sir? I have to ask. How was Tahiti?" He smiled once more.

"It's a magical place."


End file.
